The Watchman
'Watchman, what of the night?'
'The stars are out in the sky;
And the merry round moon will be rising soon,
For us to go sailing by.'
'Watchman, what of the night?'
'The tide flows in from the sea;
There's water to float a little cockboat
Will carry such fishers as we.'
'Watchman, what of the night?'
'The night is a fruitful time;
When to many a pair are born children fair,
To be christened at morning chime.'
1849
poem by Charles Kingsley
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All's Well
Watchman, watchman, what of the night,
What of the night to tell?
The heavens are dark, and never a light
But the far-off flicker of Hell.
But the steed is in the stall,
Unsleeping;
And the warder on the wall,
Watch-keeping;
And the granary is stored,
And ready gun and sword.
In the name of the Lord,
All's Well!
Watchman, watchman, what of the night,
What of the night to tell?
The wind blows fierce, and the foam flies white,
And the waters moan and swell.
But the foes to haven keep,
Safe hiding;
And our ships are on the deep,
Sure riding;
And the gallant hearts on board
Keep ceaseless watch and ward.
In the name of the Lord,
All's Well!
Watchman, watchman, what of the night,
What of the night to tell?
There are widows weeping, and babes affright,
And a ceaseless burial bell.
But the hand that holds the gun
Still shakes not;
And the line drops one by one,
Yet breaks not.
Of the blood so nobly poured
There shall surely be reward.
In the name of the Lord,
All's Well
poem by Francis William Bourdillon
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The night watchman
The fire in the holed drum burns bright
and I can see red coals flickering
like the shining stars up in the sky
and white teeth smiles at me
while I walk by
and the night watchman puffs at a cigarette
and with sharp eyes watches
from his black overcoat
as if nothing passes him
with one hand holding a baton
and somewhere up there
eternally a watchman guards
while the lights of his fires beacons the night
against the dark, against evil things.
[References: Nagwag (night watchman) by DJ Opperman and the nightwatchman by Fhazel Johennesse.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Rich
A night watchman; the rich man keeps
So that he can have a sound sleep
The richman spends sleepless night
The watchman has sleep in his eyes.
Servant places delicious and rich food
but there is no time to eat
Doctor advised to leave delectableness
to be healthy and keep fit.
(C) S.D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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The Watchman of Dark Christmas Night
The brazier’s glowing coals lit up his eyes.
I asked the watchman as he guarded time:
tell me, watchman, of the truth of Night..
he said: when I had conquered all the tasks of day,
I took night-watching as the sternest test,
to seek the weakness, and to seek the strength
which I might find there in my deepest self..
In darkest night, I lost myself – or so
I thought I had: for every night,
as the third hour after midnight moves
into the fourth hour, there came a time
when all one held as precious to oneself,
all joy and consolation, all the point of life
was taken from me… then I felt
myself an abject, faithless wretch..
for it seemed that even God
is in repose, in that abyss of time..
taking from me, even faith,
and hope, and love itself..
and then one day, I saw in paint –
it could have been by Rembrandt’s guided hand –
the darkness, to be full of light..
more full than day itself..
the light itself, as God, all in repose;
and in the darkness are all things
drawn back into themselves;
so that they may awake at dawn
the fresher; Diadochus, holy man,
who knew dark well, for all his holiness,
and welcomed it… gave it a name:
‘educative desolation’ was his term…
for what mortal man would not become complacent
to think he walked with God both day and night?
At that darkest hour, faith, hope, and loving-kindness
may be withdrawn from human kind; yet,
they cannot die, I learned; they must return..
And no one may tell – as shepherds watch,
and angels fill the skies –
what Mary feels, before her faith and hope
are born as joy and love..
what Mary feels, this night as dark as sin..
what Mary feels, before the holy dawn;
only humility, for her, for us,
will see us through the testing hours;
will teach us in this darkest night
the darkness full of brightest light..
We sat there silent for a space,
I and the watchman of the Night;
the brazier glowing warm and bright;
the silence full of grace.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Night-Night (Children)
Night-night moon
Night-night stars
Night-night noisy
trucks and cars.
Night-night sand box
Night-night toys
Night-night other
girls and boys.
Night-night mom
Night-night dad
Night-night Boogie Man
who's not bad.
It's time to go to sleep now,
most all my night nights said.
Night-night blankie
Night-night bed.
Night Watchman
The leopard's eyes scanned left and right,
As sunshine faded fast,
For soon would come the moon and night,
When one more day had past
And eyes must now be on alert
With instincts borne to bear,
In case there was a need to spurt,
Escaping fast elsewhere...
The leopard's eyes were cooling down
As twilight gathered close,
As clear blue skies turn somewhat brown
And brilliant sunshine goes...
The air has felt a sudden chill
That creatures know full well...
The moon ascends on yonder hill
And casts its silver spell...
The leopard's eyes observe the scene,
The scene he's seen before,
The coming of the in-between,
The timing ever sure...
Night watchman, waiting, instincts taut,
Aware of everything,
Avoiding dangers as he ought,
That's how he's stayed the king...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Night Watchman II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Vocation
When the gong sounds ten in the morning and I walk to school by our
lane.
Every day I meet the hawker crying, "Bangles, crystal
bangles!"
There is nothing to hurry him on, there is no road he must
take, no place he must go to, no time when he must come home.
I wish I were a hawker, spending my day in the road, crying,
"Bangles, crystal bangles!"
When at four in the afternoon I come back from the school,
I can see through the gate of that house the gardener digging
the ground.
He does what he likes with his spade, he soils his clothes
with dust, nobody takes him to task if he gets baked in the sun or
gets wet.
I wish I were a gardener digging away at the garden with
nobody to stop me from digging.
Just as it gets dark in the evening and my mother sends me to
bed,
I can see through my open window the watchman walking up and
down.
The lane is dark and lonely, and the street-lamp stands like
a giant with one red eye in its head.
The watchman swings his lantern and walks with his shadow at
his side, and never once goes to bed in his life.
I wish I were a watchman walking the streets all night,
chasing the shadows with my lantern.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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It is hard for an ex-king to become a night watchman.
Advent
This Advent moon shines cold and clear,
These Advent nights are long;
Our lamps have burned year after year
And still their flame is strong.
'Watchman, what of the night?' we cry,
Heart-sick with hope deferred:
'No speaking signs are in the sky,'
Is still the watchman's word.
The Porter watches at the gate,
The servants watch within;
The watch is long betimes and late,
The prize is slow to win.
'Watchman, what of the night?' But still
His answer sounds the same:
'No daybreak tops the utmost hill,
Nor pale our lamps of flame.'
One to another hear them speak
The patient virgins wise:
'Surely He is not far to seek'—
'All night we watch and rise.'
'The days are evil looking back,
The coming days are dim;
Yet count we not His promise slack,
But watch and wait for Him.'
One with another, soul with soul,
They kindle fire from fire:
'Friends watch us who have touched the goal.'
'They urge us, come up higher.'
'With them shall rest our waysore feet,
With them is built our home,
With Christ.'—'They sweet, but He most sweet,
Sweeter than honeycomb.'
There no more parting, no more pain,
The distant ones brought near,
The lost so long are found again,
Long lost but longer dear:
Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard,
Nor heart conceived that rest,
With them our good things long deferred,
With Jesus Christ our Best.
We weep because the night is long,
We laugh for day shall rise,
We sing a slow contented song
And knock at Paradise.
Weeping we hold Him fast, Who wept
For us, we hold Him fast;
And will not let Him go except
He bless us first or last.
Weeping we hold Him fast to-night;
We will not let Him go
Till daybreak smite our wearied sight
And summer smite the snow:
Then figs shall bud, and dove with dove
Shall coo the livelong day;
Then He shall say, 'Arise, My love,
My fair one, come away.'
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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It's one of the tragic ironies of the theatre that only one man in it can count on steady work - the night watchman.
quote by Tallulah Bankhead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Until Sunrise
“A Soldier Tales”
I stand upon this field a watchman
over my brothers who now lay at rest.
And until sunrise here I’ll stand.
Sleep my dear brothers;
Dream pleasantly with
no fear. For I will stand watch
over you all like an angel sent
from heaven. Until sunrise.
Now as the night wind whistles
I hear each of your voices in the
breeze, Each of you my dear
brothers thanking me; for watching
over you all until the sunrise.
But my dear brothers’ rest, for you need
not thank me. In fact I should be thanking you
for you are asleep now, so that I and many
others can be awake. So rest your heads in
your graves knowing that you all did not die in
vane, and until God calls me to my final resting
place. I’ll be your watchman my brothers.
Until Sunrise.
In the Silent Night
So brightly upon the water
Does that full moon glow
After a day that couldn't get hotter
It's a lovely night, I suppose
The water around me is so still
In which I seem to become a part of it
Oh, the lonliness I feel
On this quiet night
I do admit
I float on my back to watch the sky
I smile because you're under here, too
Still, it's a hot night in July
And another night remembering you
The water soothes my hot skin
God, draw me towards the heavens with might!
I'm covered in water up to my chin
Crying in the silent night
poem by Whitney Albright
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Moon and Stars
I look up above my head this fair evening
And saw the slender of it all,
How the night time is formed and fashioned
And with beauty of night delightful
Brings on that special kind of night.
Bring on the night!
Bring on the beauty of the night,
As the moon shines up
And stars paly up above
So, bring on the night!
Romance in the air
Bring on the night!
Lovers are in motion,
So bring on the night!
Delight me,
Kiss me,
Thrill me,
Bring on the night!
When I was in Philadelphia during the Depression in 1930 or '31, I got a very sad job as a night watchman in a garage. The cars in the garage had been abandoned by their owners, since they had lost their jobs and couldn't keep up the payments.
quote by Tom Glazer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Got The Sun In The Morning
Taking stock of what I have and what I haven't
What do I find?
The things I got will keep me satisfied
Checking up on what I have and what I haven't
What do I find?
A healthy balance on the credit side
Got no diamond
Got no pearl
Still I think I'm a lucky girl
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Got no mansion
Got no yacht
Still I'm happy with what I got
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Sunshine
Gives me a lovely day
Moonlight
Gives me the Milky Way
Got no checkbooks
Got no banks
Still I'd like to express my thanks
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
And with the sun in the morning
And the moon in the evening
I'm all right
[2]
Got no mansion
Got no yacht
Still I'm happy with what I got
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Got no silver
Got no gold
What I got can't be bought or sold
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Sunshine
Gives me a lovely day
Moonlight
Gives me the Milky Way
Got no checkbooks
Got no banks
Still I'd like to express my thanks
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
And with the sun in the morning
And the moon in the evening
I'm all right
[3]
Sunshine
Gives me a lovely day
Moonlight
Gives me the Milky Way
Got no heirlooms
For my kin
Made no will but when I cash in
I leave the sun in the morning and the moon at night
And with the sun in the morning
And the moon in the evening they're all right
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night After Night
by Bob Dylan
Night after night you wander the streets of my mind.
Night after night don't know what you think you will find.
No place to go, nowhere to turn,
Everything around you seems to burn, burn, burn.
And there's never any mercy night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night some new plan to blow up the world.
Night after night another old man kissing some young girl.
You look for salvation, you find none.
Just another broken heart, another barrel of a gun,
Just another stick of dynamite night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night you drop dead in your bed,
Night after night another bottle finds a head.
Night after night I think about cutting you loose
But I just can't do it, what would be the use?
So I just keep a holding you tight night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark Night
Night dark but your lies were darker
Night cruel but your love more crueler
Night all alone yet better than your absent minded with me
Night was the time i gave my whole to you
Night was the time you slapped my face
Night was the day you pushed me to the door.
Night was the time you abused me
Night was the time you slit my tongue
Night was the time the moon refuses to smile at us
Night was the time i lost you
Night was the time you left me all in the rain
Night was the time i cry you a river
Night under the tree you promise me your undying love
Night was the time you bid me goodbye
Night was the time you threw a stone into my glassy world.
poem by Blessing Ekpe
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My lover and I
When the ever resilient nightingale to his date
Chirrups his songs day long and night late
My love and I keep our sweet state
In the lush and balmy bower
Of varieties bursting blooming flowers
Sweetening with love chat the fresh young air
All day from rose cheeked morning till dusk we are there
Till the watchman guarding in the tower
Announces the approaching close hour
The gored vermilion sun sank in the West
And the night rests on canopies and on crests
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Acquainted with the Night
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
A luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
poem by Robert Frost
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Nightfall (A Lullaby)
One by one the lights go down
Soon there will be nothing left to see
Night is here
One by one the stars come out
And with the moon will watch us from above
Night is here
Lay your head down to rest
Leave the weary world behind
Close your eyes, don't think twice
There will always be tomorrow
One by one the lights go down
Until there's nothing left to do but dream
Night is here
One by one the stars come 'round
To mark the way and guide us through our dreams
Night is here
Night is here
Night.... is...... here....
poem by Sonya Florentino
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